


The Sleeve And The Gaps

by FunkyinFishnet



Series: Violet Nights [29]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M, Male Slash, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 23:05:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4805564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunkyinFishnet/pseuds/FunkyinFishnet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo decides to get his first tattoo. Kili and Fili want to know why his arm is sore, Thorin makes filthy promises and Beorn reveals his love of nature.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sleeve And The Gaps

**Author's Note:**

> So I think this is the end of Violet Nights, at least for now. I've got nothing else drafted. I have other Hobbit fics drafted though so look out for those. Thanks to everyone who has dropped me a comment or a kudos, I'm glad this sprawling creature of a series has appealed and become loved. I certainly never expected it to go on for so long.

 

 

 

Beorn smiled broadly when Bilbo walked in alone, “The time has come, has it, tiny?”

 

Bilbo shook his head at the nickname but produced a piece of paper from his pocket.

 

“Is this possible?”

 

Beorn took his time, closely looking over the paper. Bilbo glanced around the tattoo shop; there were a few people getting work done, Beorn’s staff working diligently with their needle guns. One of the staff had a tattoo of rabbits gambling down one arm which made Bilbo smile in bemusement. It was like a picture from a nature book rather than any kind of adorable cartoon; Bilbo could now recognise Beorn’s handiwork.

 

“Bicep?” guessed Beorn abruptly, running a critical eye over Bilbo.

 

Bilbo touched his own arm, “Just above the elbow.”

 

Beorn nodded his head thoughtfully and walked off without any explanation. Bilbo waited a moment, considering whether he should ask an employee where their boss had gone when he heard the sound of a photocopier starting up. Ah. He wandered over to the nearest wall to look at photographs displayed there. He’d become quite interested in what people chose to mark their skin with. Someone had an intricate starburst unfolding between their shoulder blades; someone else had a snake wrapped around their upper arm. They were all likely to some kind of meaning behind them. Bilbo stared at the snake and wondered what it could possibly signify.

 

“Tiny!”

 

Beorn was back, now with a strip of paper in his hand. He gestured for Bilbo to come close and roll up his sleeve so that Beorn could wrap the paper around Bilbo’s arm, adjusting it this way and that. His touch was completely sure and he turned Bilbo towards the nearest mirror.

 

“About there.”

 

He sounded confident of course. Bilbo looked in the mirror, his heartbeat speeding up. He'd been thinking about getting a tattoo for a while now and finally, it was going to happen. It really was. He nodded. Beorn grinned and clapped Bilbo hard on the shoulder as he moved to grab his enormous appointment book.

 

“It’ll take a couple of sessions,” he told Bilbo, flicking through the book rapidly.

 

Bilbo leaned over the counter and assessed the free slots that Beorn had available.

 

“Thursday morning.”

 

Beorn grabbed a biro from somewhere about his person and wrote Bilbo in. He had looping elegant handwriting. “You chose a good artist.”

 

Bilbo smiled, taking back the paper design that he’d brought with him and tucking it safely away.

 

*

 

Ori had sworn that he’d keep Bilbo’s tattoo design a secret. He’d said that he wouldn’t even tell Dwalin.

 

“He knows there’s customer confidentiality,” Ori had informed Bilbo when they’d met at Violet Nights for a quiet meeting one afternoon. “He never looks at my workbooks unless I ask for his opinion.”

 

So Bilbo had explained to Ori what sort of elements he’d wanted incorporated into his tattoo and Ori had begun asking questions – what sort of size did Bilbo want? What colours was he looking for? Was there any particular style or design he especially wanted? Bilbo had provided answers and Ori had written down the information in a little spiral-bound notepad. Then he’d gotten out a large sketchbook and a couple of pencils and had begun work.

 

Bilbo had sent a text to his mother – _Yes, I’ll be there tonight. I’ll bring dessert._ – and had seen to some customers whilst also keeping an eye on the jam roll baking in the kitchen. He’d known Ori would appreciate it and made sure to slice off a big piece for him and provide runny cream. Ori had thanked him profusely, had drunk plenty of tea and after a couple of hours had revealed a sketch that had made Bilbo really smile.

 

“Could you change this slightly so that it’s-?”

 

“Oh! Yes, of course. And maybe-?”

 

“Yes, I like that.”

 

Bilbo had watched Ori work diligently on the sketch off and on for several days. Bilbo had made sure that every night Ori went home with wrapped-up chunks of jam roll. Ori had asked him to donate to the buskers that were often set up near Sabrina’s café and the Green Man pub. Bilbo had known that that was to do with Nori and had nodded. He didn’t see enough of Ori’s brother and he knew that Ori didn’t either.

 

Ori had stayed true to his word and hadn’t revealed a single pencil line to Dwalin. Dwalin had never asked Bilbo about it either. If he had any ideas about what Bilbo might be planning, he’d never even eyed Bilbo speculatively.

 

Bilbo gave him a couple of cakes on the house anyway.

 

*

 

Bilbo told Thorin that he was going to get a tattoo the night before his appointment with Beorn, though he didn't tell Thorin the date he'd chosen for it. Thorin was massaging his feet, digging his strong thumbs into Bilbo’s tired arches. He stilled at Bilbo’s announcement until Bilbo had to prod him impatiently; his feet still needing soothing attention. Thorin automatically began massaging again, staring intently at Bilbo. Bilbo smiled slightly, he felt as though he should take a photograph of Thorin's expression for Dis, it would make a very good birthday card.

 

He really was thinking like a Durin, the kind of thinking that he didn’t actually mind, as long as his mother wasn’t around to say ‘I told you so.’

 

“Thorin,” he said at last pointedly.

 

“A tattoo.”

 

Bilbo smiled at Thorin’s tone – wondering and intrigued and well, just what Bilbo had expected. “Yes, a tattoo. I did say I was thinking about it. Beorn’s going to work on me.”

 

“I’ll-.”

 

“I don’t need a chaperone, Thorin,” Bilbo interrupted, firm without being sharp, he’d gotten plenty of practice at that since opening Violet Nights. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”

 

Thorin didn’t look happy but he took notice of Bilbo's expression – this was not up for debate – and let the matter go with almost good grace. Bilbo stroked a foot across Thorin’s thigh, just to see him smile.

 

“And don’t tell Kili or Fili. I want to see how long it takes them to notice.”

 

Thorin laughed.

 

*

 

Bilbo hadn’t told his mother but when she served up dinner that night, she told Bilbo, “I want a good picture of your tattoo once it’s healed.”

 

Bungo smiled around his pipe stem, apparently equally unsurprised, his newspaper crackling between his fingers.

 

*

 

Carrock was quiet when Bilbo entered it. Beorn was fiddling with the radio, a steaming cup of tea at his elbow. He didn’t look surprised when he turned around and saw Bilbo.

 

“Tiny! Good morning.”

 

The radio sputtered out a bit of noise, then went quiet again. Beorn turned his attention to his cup of tea instead. Bilbo placed a box on the counter.

 

“Ham and pickled onion pie.”

 

Beorn’s grin became wide and extremely pleased, “You’re a man of your word. Very good.”

 

He didn’t open the box but patted it before tucking it away under the counter. Then he drained at least half of his tea and strode towards a station.

 

“Your little man tried to discover your tattoo date. We told him next week,” Beorn laughed.

 

Bilbo expected nothing less from Thorin, shaking his head as Beorn continued, “First we need to shave the area I’ll be working on, then I’ll put the stencil on.”

 

Once he’d taken his shirt off to give Beorn proper access, Bilbo studied Beorn’s tattoos as the proprietor began shaving the preferred section of Bilbo’s arm. He had a lot of animal tattoos – Thorin had told Bilbo about Beorn's enormous tattoo of a brown bear-like animal around his considerable ribcage. Bilbo could see all kinds of other animals too though, predators and prey and a lot that looked like something out of Grimms Fairytales, all kinds of winged, horned creatures, and a lot of birds, was that a large swarm of beers buzzing down Beorn’s forearm to his wrist?

 

Beorn hummed quietly as he worked, wetting the stencil paper so that Bilbo was left with an ink impression of his tattoo. He looked closely in the mirror, the position seemed right. His phone buzzed, Thorin had texted him.

 

_Don’t believe everything Beorn tells you._

 

Bilbo smiled. His heartbeat was excited, maybe a little nervous about the upcoming pain but he wasn’t going to back out. He wanted this. So he sat down where Beorn indicated and tried to find the most comfortable position for several hours of stillness, a fist clenched, determined to distract himself.

 

“So what was Thorin like when he got his first tattoo?”

 

Beorn’s grin broadened as he sorted through his colour cart.”Oh, he’ll hate you knowing this but...”

 

*

 

Bilbo’s arm was still smarting when he reached his flat that night. His arm was well-bandaged and hidden by his jacket. He texted Thorin to say his tattoo had been started, nice try trying to get the date out of Beorn, he was fine, he’d let Elladan and Elrohir do all the heavy lifting at Violet Nights that day. Neither of them had commented on his arm though had clearly formed their own theories.

 

_I argued less with Beorn than you did when you got your first tattoo._

 

_He exaggerates._

 

_So he’s lying about the first tattoo choice you made?_

 

_I did change my mind!_

 

Bilbo laughed to himself and texted his mum to say that he was fine, his arm was sore and that he wasn’t telling Fili and Kili about it. Belladonna replied that she’d make more money from the betting pool if he didn’t tell Kili and Fili for at least a fortnight. Bilbo had the horrible feeling that Kili and Fili were only encouraging her.

 

That night Bilbo turned this way and that to find a comfortable way to sleep. In the morning, he had a text message from Bofur waiting for him: _What’s happened to your arm?_

 

Bilbo made himself a cup of tea and a huge bowl of cereal before texting back, _Nothing Smaug-related. I’m fine._

 

His answer wouldn’t hold them back for long but he’d at least be able to enjoy his breakfast now.

 

*

 

Thorin kept his word and didn’t say anything to Kili and Fili. He was tender as he helped Bilbo take care of the swelling and stared at the bandages like he could see through them. He looked like he wanted to guess but didn’t. Kili and Fili soon realised that Bilbo’s arm was out of action and started throwing out guesses every time they saw him.

 

“Elladan and Elrohir-.”

 

“No.”

 

“You don’t know what he was going to say.”

 

“I know it was nothing to do with them.”

 

Bilbo made apple pies for the brothers and more savoury meat pies for Beorn. He needed a couple more sessions for the colours to be completed. He managed to book them so that he wasn’t missed anywhere else. Beorn told him more stories about the Durins – about how Nori had a couple of tattoos that nobody else knew about just in case, how Florella designed her own tattoos, how Bombur had had a new tattoo done after his marriage and after the births of each of his children. They were good stories.

 

Bilbo still found that he was learning Beorn’s tattoos; it took his mind off the pain as Beorn worked. He asked Beorn about them.

 

“I’d rather spend a day on the farm than anywhere else,” Beorn told him, easily able to juggle conversation and the highly-concentrated work he was doing. “It’s a big place, where I grew up. Been in my family for decades.”

 

“You own a farm, but work here?”

 

“My foreman makes a good fist of it; he and the crew keep everything running smoothly. I’m there most weekends, whenever I can be, but money’s got to be made somehow. I won’t see those animals sacrificed so I can live.”

 

Beorn sounded absolutely firm and Bilbo tried to imagine him on a farm, under a hot sun, working in a field or feeding animals. It almost worked.

 

“My dad runs a garden nursery, I can’t imagine him doing anything else,” Bilbo commented.

 

“The earth gets into your blood,” Beorn confirmed, doing something that appeared complicated to his needle gun. “You treat it right, it gives back too. People have tried to buy my farm now and then but no one’s gotten near it. Someone once sent a couple of his friends to make mischief and encourage me to leave. Sid and Nancy kicked them so hard I’m told they couldn’t walk for weeks.”

 

“Sid and Nancy.”

 

“A fine couple of bay horses, lovely markings on Sid, nice temperaments the both of them.”

 

“When they’re not kicking people.”

 

“Oh, they’re the best intruder alarm system, even better than badgers.”

 

Beorn seemed completely serious. Bilbo got sidetracked by thoughts of Beorn’s farm until Beorn sat back with a satisfied smile.

 

“There, I think we’re done.”

 

Bilbo moved his arm fraction, it really did feel sore. He knew that’d continue for a while; he’d seen how Kili had held himself each time he got more work done on his forearm tattoo. Beorn nodded Bilbo towards a nearby mirror.

 

“You won’t get the full effect until everything settles down but you can see it enough I reckon.”

 

Bilbo gazed into the mirror, at the idea he’d had that Ori had so skilfully drawn. There it was on his skin, in living colour. Beorn smiled in the mirror beside him.

 

“I look forward to your next one.”

 

Bilbo gazed at him sceptically. “I’m only having the one.”

 

Beorn laughed and touched a hand just below Bilbo’s tattoo, “You’ve left gaps, Tiny. I give you six months at most.”

 

*

 

Kili and Fili continued to try to guess what had caused Bilbo’s arm injury. He never showed them the bandage, knowing it’d be a complete giveaway, and kept well out of their way. Elladan and Elrohir refused to give anyone any clues, Thorin kept silent even when Oin kept trying to get Bilbo to let him inspect the ‘wound.’

 

“Oin, I’ll let you know when I want you looking at it.”

 

“Hmm, the sooner the better, lad. You don’t want to end up in hospital.”

 

Arwen emailed him, saying that she’d take a look the next time she was home and that if he couldn’t wait that long, he should get an appointment with her grandparents at Lothloriel. Bilbo quickly emailed back with the truth and an explanation for the subterfuge. Arwen sounded delighted and amused in her response and told him that her grandparents would love that story. She also asked if he could make a cake for her father’s birthday. Bilbo put his head together with the twins and started planning, despite his throbbing arm.

 

*

 

By the time Elrond’s birthday arrived, Bilbo had unwrapped his arm. Actually, Thorin unwrapped the bandages, having stayed the night partly for that very purpose. Bilbo found that he was holding his breath and that maybe Thorin was too, it felt like a strangely important moment. Thorin stared at the tattoo for an intense moment and then held a hand out in silent question. At Bilbo’s nod, he traced the tattoo lightly with his fingertips, which made Bilbo twitch. His skin was still sensitive. Thorin’s gaze smouldered and his mouth smirked; Bilbo smirked back. But whatever plans they both had had to wait because Thorin had an early meeting to get to and Bilbo had a café to open. So they parted soon after, Thorin murmuring heated promises in Bilbo’s ear.

 

Bilbo wore a short-sleeved shirt to work that day, leaving his tattoo out on display. He asked Elladan to take a photograph that he could send immediately to his mother, she’d know if she wasn’t among the first to see it.

 

“It’s beautiful work,” Elrohir told him with that slight smile that made Bilbo smile too.

 

Belladonna quickly texted back once she’d received the photo, _Ori does such brilliant work. Elrond is going to love his birthday painting._

 

When Kili and Fili arrived, they noticed instantly. They both stopped in their tracks, their eyes wide, their mouths silent. Bilbo took a photo and sent it to their mother. Elladan took one too.

 

“Bilbo!” Kili exclaimed at last. “You sneaky...”

 

Bilbo raised an eyebrow, “Who won the betting pool?”

 

Fili shook his head, “I don’t think anyone did, not the one for guessing your first tattoo anyway.”

 

“Mum, she won the guess-when-Bilbo’ll-finally-get-a-tattoo pool,” Kili added.

 

He stepped closer to examine the ink. There was a lot to take in; the tattoo was a group of images that wrapped around Bilbo’s arm, just above his elbow. The images were interwoven, forming a high short sleeve. There were a lot of tealeaves and hops, several saucepans, leather and wool, shortbread, a pipe like his father’s, and a few scones sandwiched together with cream and jam that looked more violet than red. Were there gaps? Bilbo tilted his head.

 

The bell over the door rang; Bilbo stepped back behind the counter. He had work to do, even as Kili and Fili began texting furiously. Bilbo was going to hear from a lot of Durins today. Dis messaged him to thank him for the photo of her sons and for the money he'd won her, Ori asked if it was now okay to talk to Dwalin about Bilbo’s tattoo, Bofur congratulated Bilbo on keeping it so successfully under his hat.

 

Thorin’s text was simple, _Tonight._

 

Bilbo thought about Thorin’s words earlier, filthy and promising, and how Thorin had looked at him. He thought about gaps in his tattoo. His skin tingled.

 

_-the end_


End file.
